


Uralter Verteidiger

by Mr_Crocodile



Series: On the shoulders of Titans [5]
Category: Godzilla - All Media Types, Godzilla: King of The Monsters (2019)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Gen, Germany, Homebrew Content
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-10
Updated: 2020-12-10
Packaged: 2021-03-10 00:27:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,090
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27995256
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mr_Crocodile/pseuds/Mr_Crocodile
Summary: Mikhail Ornstein has had a busy life.Mikhail Ornstein has been to many places and has experienced a lot more than most.Mikhail Ornstein has no idea what lies beneath his feet.
Series: On the shoulders of Titans [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1990825
Comments: 9
Kudos: 7





	Uralter Verteidiger

**Author's Note:**

> I bring you a new fic, this time featuring one of the most interesting Monsterverse lads!  
> Have fun!

**4th of February, 2013** **  
****Munich, West Germany**

Mikhail Ornstein was an adaptable man; it wasn’t that surprising, really, if one took into account his family’s (his entire people’s really) track record. So when he had moved from the Northwest suburbs of Chicago to Santiago at the behest of his now-ex-girlfriend, it had taken less than a month for his fear of the ground tremors to die down. And by his second month there? They had become nothing more than a nuisance. 

Of course, moving to a different continent just after graduating from university was not a small thing. And just because a woman he had only been dating for half a year had told him to... It had ended up being as much of a poor decision as his mother had predicted it to be. But much like the Chilean tremors, that toxic year and a half was long gone from his life. Getting a fresh start in the FRG had been quite the positive idea.

That was, of course, ignoring how his coffee mug had apparently and suddenly developed suicidal tendencies, with it almost falling to the ground from his table. Since it was an inanimate object, the shaking that had almost knocked it from the table could only mean that, for some ungodly reason, Munich was suffering from an earthquake. And the tremor didn’t exactly feel like one to ignore, even by his acclimated standards. So he did as he had been taught by the Chileans way back when, and calmly walked out of his apartment, only stopping to grab his keys, phone, and wallet. As he walked down the stairs he was also sufficiently lucky to get to enjoy the sight of his neighbours running down the stairs, most still in their pajamas. They were clearly and entertainly unfamiliar with the fact that their apartment building was too well constructed to fall prey to a tremor that, while worrying because of its unlikeliness, was in practice at most going to claim the lives of a few picture frames and coffee mugs.

Still... an earthquake in southern Germany was unprecedented, borderline impossible if one took the region’s geology into account, so Mikhail reasoned that the cause must have been some kind of explosion or accident close to the city which had caused the upset and about which he expected to be hearing about in the radio very soon.

_“Except it didn’t feel like an explosion.”_ The more analytical side of him had complained.

**_“It felt as if the earth was shuddering.”_ **

* * *

Mikhail had tried to carry out his daily routine with as much normalcy as possible, he truly had, but that plan had started failing the moment he stepped inside his car and turned on the radio. The facts and data were as sparse as they were bizarre. Apparently the epicenter had been somewhere on the _Voralpen_ , the foothills of the Alps to the south. However, one of the geologists brought in by the radio station had explained that it couldn’t be a true earthquake as the seismometer data showed that the epicenter was simply not deep enough and was along no known faultline. 

Of course, another one of the guests had berated the scientist for his excessive use of terminology while another two of the guests had tried to keep arguing about the incongruent data to the point of insulting each other. The entire ordeal had been embarrassing to listen to, and had left Mikhail with two conclusions.

First, he was glad that he was a historian and as such was able to stay as far away as possible from the insanity that was “pure sciences”.

And, more importantly, literally no one actually knew what on earth had really happened down south, not the scientists (that was painfully clear), not the government (which was apparently creating a committee to decide if a committee to investigate was needed), not the media, not _anyone_.

When he arrived at the Jüdisches Museum München, the chatter about the strange occurrence was already permeating the usually quiet and calm building. He overheard his fellows and coworkers as they defended and attacked each other's theories; some even had more than one! And while many were mundane and based on logical arguments, he also heard about the government secretly testing weapons up in the Alps and similarly outlandish theories.

He even heard one of the volunteers suggest that a _Kaiju_ being responsible for it, of all things! Which was so absurd he needed to make an effort not to laugh at the thought. Sure, _a Kaiju in the middle of Europe_ , Europe of all places! Because _that_ would go unnoticed!

As if.

As the day progressed, he did his best to continue his research routine, even with the chatter refused to die down, and was even increasing. People even tried to drag him in on the arguing to see if his near-encyclopedic knowledge was of any help to their arguments.

And then, as if the day wasn’t hectic enough, Mila Bialik poked her head into his office with that way too wide smile of hers.

Mila was an active woman, almost too active. She was as far as he knew a member of every single Jewish and/or cultural and/or historical and/or leftist organisation in the city and most of the regional and national ones. She was leading forty-five percent of them by his estimates and as one of their common friends had once joked, she had more activism and energy drinks than blood on her veins.

“Good morning Mila. I hope your talk with the mayor went well.” He really was poking the bear by making such a blatant statement to Mila of all people... But he would much rather be dragged into a conversation about their projects than another bizarre debate about a hidden city under the Alps.

“Oh, It went well and I think I’m slowly getting through his harder-than-concrete skull!” She answered as she entered and invited herself to sit on one of his spare chairs. Only to wait for some kind of response from him, her smile somehow even wider and her eyes filled with excitement.

That wasn’t good, Mila never waited for _anyone_ to say _anything_.

“Oh, well, that’s good! Great! I hope we can-” He tried to say, he really did.. But Mila was, well, she was Mila.

“Oh for God’s sake Mikha'el! A third of Bavaria just shook like a derailing train and you are here doing paperwork?!” She accused him. 

Of course she would be part of the insanity, what else could he expect.

“Mila, why should I-” 

“Why? Because _Munich_ just had an earthquake and no one knows why?! Maybe?! Do you even watch the news?” She interrupted him again.

Seeing how he had no chance to actually defend himself, he accepted defeat and elected to invite Mila to coffee in the cafeteria. Luckily, once she was done exposing all of her theories, he was finally able to steer the conversation back to the issue at hand, amongst the many projects he and Mila were both part of, she was currently working on getting him the funds needed to carry out some restoration and archeological work on one of the city’s old Jewish cemeteries. Which he was happy to note was developing much better than many of their other projects.

Of course, that conversation was interrupted by the sudden commotion which swept the cafeteria in the form of a second tremor. Barely weaker than the previous one, the light fixtures swayed and Mila, completely caught off guard, grabbed onto his hand until her knuckles went white. 

Like the first one, this tremor was over in half a minute, but strangely enough, instead of everyone in the cafeteria standing up and fleeing by instinct. Mikhail was confused by the fact that, no, no one was standing up, or moving. Hell, the place was so quiet that he could perfectly hear the usually drowned out tv on the corner.

Which meant he could perfectly hear what an ARD reporter was live-broadcasting from what had to be a camera mounted on a helicopter. The text under the live-video itself claimed that they were close to Tegernsee, close to the border.

But that and the other data being shown on-screen barely registered in his mind, the frantic speaking of the reporter was nothing more than white noise to him.

Instead, each and everyone of his neurons were solely focused on trying to comprehend the images he was seeing.

A mountain, one of many, was _breaking apart_. The trees rooted to it were shaking like leaves during a hurricane. Enormous boulders, the size of cars, were dislodging themselves from the slopes and tumbling down with the speed of cannonballs and shattering on impact.

Except, the mountain, the mountain wasn’t really breaking apart as much as it was dislodging itself from the ground. He could see chasms and gashes, deep enough that the camera couldn’t really capture the bottom of them growing between the mountain in question and the hills and other mountains around it. 

It was _rising_ **_up_ ** _._

And then he saw it, well, everyone could see it.

An eye.

Pitch black, shiny and as wide as Mikhail was tall. And it was clearly staring directly at the chopper.

That was probably the reason why the helicopter suddenly started gaining altitude, the pilot was probably sane enough to at least try and get some distance between himself and the colossus. But that only allowed them to get a better view of how terrifyingly large the Kaiju (it could be nothing else) was.

The thing wasn’t _under_ the mountain. The thing _was_ the mountain.

And as it finished rising, unfolding elephantine limbs the size of his entire apartment building, Mikhail had only one thought.

_“And I thought leaving the States would mean leaving these things behind... “_

Santiago’s tremors didn’t feel so unwelcoming anymore.

### ###

It had taken Methuselah, that was what the authorities had named it (Which Mikhail found both fitting and jarring), less than half a day to cover the distance between itself and its current location, which was according to social media somewhere between Dachau and Munich proper. It had been surprisingly slow, apparently due to the fact that, despite the monsters immense strides, it had actually avoided walking on a straight line over cities and instead had snakes its way around eastern Munich, only destroying roads and a few buildings instead of creating a bloodbath. 

It had been so eerily pacifistic that, combined with the fact that the government hadn’t been able to draw up or carry out an evacuation, people had _flocked_ to places where they could witness the beast.

That had been shocking to Mikhail, who had grown up seeing the brutality of Kaiju attacks in the Pacific and Asia almost weekly on the news. So shocking in fact, that when Mila had asked him if he would drive her to a vantage point near Eglharting, he had only dumbly nodded.

In truth, he had never actually seen a Kaiju up close before, and standing there with Mila, with each rumbling call from the forest-backed beast rattling his bones and its steps making his (and everyone else’s) car alarms go off? 

He had felt small, so, so small standing before the tusked beast. Enough that he could have sworn his heart had stopped beating purely out of reverence.

Mila had compared it to a Golem, probably as a reference to the enormity and rocky appearance of the quadrupedal Kaiju. Ignoring the fact that it probably fulfilled none of the Rabbinic qualifications of a Golem, he had retorted that he wished his, _their_ , ancestors had had such an astounding protector at their disposal. Mila had only responded with a bitter laugh.

Once the Kaiju had moved far enough and after he had convinced Mila that it was getting too late, he had driven her back to the city in complete silence.

They both had too many thoughts occupying their minds to carry out a conversation.

Mikhail in particular had reached the daunting conclusion that, him, a man who had dedicated his career to his people’s history on this land and who was extremely familiar with the nation’s overall history… 

Him, a historian of renown with intimate knowledge of all of Bavaria’s historical records… He had known nothing about the monster resting under their very feet for hundreds-no, thousands of years.

And if it had happened in Bavaria, who said it couldn’t happen anywhere, _everywhere_ else? 

**Author's Note:**

> Ok, lots of stuff to say:  
> A) For anyone interested, all fics on this series now have dates and locations on them so ya'll can piece the timeline together.  
> B) From now on, the next fic I write on this series will always be decided via a poll you can access through this link:  
> [Mr.Crododile's Fic Poll](https://forms.gle/nwECXRV59ZMrnRdN7)  
> So if you want to have a say on how I develop this setting, that's the place to go to.  
> C) I HAVE A TUMBLR! mr-crocodile is the name for any of you who might want to interact over there!  
> D) And as always, feedback, comments and kudos are very appreciated and a massive thanks to my betas(LOVE YOU) and my friend A Thing of Vikings, who helped a ton with this characterization!


End file.
